


hot mess

by picht



Category: Polygon/McElroy Vlogs & Podcasts RPF
Genre: Anal Sex, Blow Jobs, Fantasizing, Guilt, M/M, Masturbation, No Plot/Plotless, Porn With Plot, Sex Toys, Sexting, Sexual Fantasy, might add more later/change some later its 4 am and i'm blanking lol, theatre kid brian david gilbert
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-05-31
Updated: 2019-05-31
Packaged: 2020-03-31 00:20:12
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,300
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19038532
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/picht/pseuds/picht
Summary: Pat has been working with Brian David Gilbert for several months now, and the main takeaways have been that he’s funny, smart, cute, and was totally a theatre kid even if he denies it--and that Pat would love to bend him over the Gill and Gilbert streaming couch and fuck him so hard he gets rug burn on his thighs.//aka the one where pat sees pics of brian in his puck costume and is ashamed of how hot he finds it but not so ashamed that he DOESN'T jerk off to the pics. inspired by an ask i received on tumblr which said "Hey, i really enjoyed your patbrian fanfics. Your writing is really great. And ever since finding pics of brian playing puck in a midsummers night dream, in this like see through button up and jorts. Ive had this vivid image in my head of pat jerking of to them and feeling guilty cos its his younger coworker. So yeah, if the idea interests you, i trust you would write it amazingly."





	hot mess

**Author's Note:**

> well. its past 4 am, i should have been asleep hours ago, but the inspo bug hit so Here We Are. not much i wanna say cuz i do gotta get to bed but the title is based off hot mess by cobra starship cuz its twenty ninescene and that song FUCKS. this is. so much. this is the kind of porn i've ALWAYS written but been ashamed of posting publicly till very recently but u kno i'm a grown up i can do what i want. this is probably VERY bad cuz again its past 4 am but whatever idrc thanks gabe saporta for lifting me up through these trying times

It all happens because of a text in the group chat in the middle of the night.

Pat has been working with Brian David Gilbert for several months now, and the main takeaways have been that he’s funny, smart, cute, and was totally a theatre kid even if he denies it--and that Pat would love to bend him over the Gill and Gilbert streaming couch and fuck him so hard he gets rug burn on his thighs. 

He thinks about the last bit, sometimes; in bed at night, when he can’t sleep, looking at pictures of Brian or rewatching their streams because he’s an absolute fucking creep. He never jerks off--if he did he would probably have to just walk into fucking traffic. He just… gets a little hot and heavy, waits till he can barely take it, then rolls onto his stomach and forces himself to feel miserable while he waits for his hard on to flag so he can go to sleep. You know, like a good Catholic boy. As for the theatre thing, Brian denies it. Vehemently. It’s a common topic to joke about around the office, Brian’s sordid theatre past, but the younger man has done such a good job denying it that no one has been for sure that it really happened or not--until now.

‘ _yo look what i just fuckin found_ ,’ Simone has sent to the coworker-wide group chat. It’s past midnight at this point and she has no doubt gone down one of the weird, hours long internet rabbit holes she’s known for. Connected to the message are a series of pictures of a younger Brian ( _even younger than normal_ , some part of him thinks unbidden, which really just makes him hate himself even more than usual) in cut off jean shorts and a sheer button down shirt. He looks cute and innocent, but also like the happiest he could ever be would be hanging off of someone’s cock. Pat can’t help it; he fucking snaps.

It doesn’t take more than a few moments to get his hand down his boxer briefs and on his cock, skin sliding on hot skin, and it takes even less time for his brain to procure a suitably shameful fantasy which has him gasping a bit.

_“Pat,” Brian would say, a soft whimpering thing, drawn out a bit at the way Pat presses up into him where he’s straddling the older man’s lap on the streaming couch. Pat would tell him to keep quiet, because the custodian is right outside and waiting for them wrap up with their stream. He would gently press his thumb into Brian’s mouth, partially as a makeshift gag, but mostly just because he loves the way Brian always opens up without a question no matter what Pat is giving him, whether it’s fingers or cock or a plug so wide it doesn’t even fit in his mouth all the way._

Jerking himself off fast and hard, Pat’s orgasm is already approaching quickly, but he can’t bring himself to slow down. This is something he’s been denying himself for months, only ever barely allowing himself to think about Brian in this context before stopping out of shame. It’s far too late to stop now, though, especially when Brian himself replies to Simone’s message, saying, ‘ _lol guess you finally caught me red handed rip… i still have that costume too_ ,’ because suddenly all Pat can think about is this Brian-- _his_ Brian--in the cut off shorts and sheer shirt, and he can’t control the way his hand speeds up at that, hips jerking up involuntarily, fucking his cock into his fist.

_“You’re doing real good, baby,” Pat would say, and run his fingers through Brian’s hair. Brian wouldn’t be able to respond from his spot with his head in Pat’s lap, mouth too full of the older man’s cock, but the blush that would be visible crawling up the back of his neck as he gurgled happily and pressed his hips into the couch cushion he was laying across would get across his response well enough. The base of the plug in his ass would be just barely visible, and Pat wouldn’t be able to keep himself from reaching over and pressing on it firmly, laughing a little breathlessly at the way it would make Brain squirm as it pressed against his prostate. At the sound of Brian’s high, throaty whine, Pat wouldn’t be able to help himself from laughing more, tangling his fist in Brian’s hair and pressing his head down as he fucked up into his mouth. Slow and steady, Brian would take it all, because he’s a good boy. And when Pat would tell him as much in a teasing tone and he would buck his hips twice in quick succession into the couch cushion and then come with a sloppy mouthful of Pat’s cock, that’d be because he’s a good boy, too._

Then comes the pinnacle moment of the evening: As Pat is thinking about filling up Brian’s mouth with his cock and Brian’s ass with a plug, the man in question sends to the group chat a picture of himself, obviously just taken, in the sort of low, artificial lighting of a bedroom at one in the morning, posing seriously in _the fucking outfit_ , shorts tight on his hips, pink nipples visible through the fabric of his shirt. As Pat stares at the image, he feels his orgasm cresting, but he’s determined not to come while staring at a picture of his younger coworker which said coworker has just sent to their work group chat. It’s a line he is just not willing to cross.

As he’s about to throw his phone across his fucking bedroom, though, he receives another message, this one sent as a direct message from Brian. He shouldn’t open it--he _knows_ this--but without fully thinking about it, he clicks on the message and his hand stalls on his cock at what he sees.

Brian, leaned up against his headboard, visible from the mouth down. His mouth is hanging open, a trail of visible saliva leading down his face to his fingers, splayed out against his neck. His nipples are hard and visible through the sheer fabric of his shirt, and his fucking _cock_ is out, laying hard against his belly, wet at the tip. ‘ _U should know simone n i totally planned this whole thing 2 try 2 get u hot n bothered the way u get me. Hope this doesnt ruin our entire relationship, will prob regret doing it tomororw, but i just cant stop thinkin abt sitting on ur dick_ ’ the message below the image reads. Pat fucking dies.

He’s coming almost as soon as he sees the messages, and somehow just barely musters the mental capacity to toss his covers off and film his hand working himself through it, come spurting onto his naked thighs. He sends it before he can begin feeling self conscious, and then, when Brian doesn’t respond, spends the next few minutes despairing over how he’s surely just ruined their entire working relationship and he has no option but to jump out his bedroom window now. Just as he’s trying to figure out how to get out of work the next day (god, it’s _Wednesday_ , they have to stream), though, he receives another message from Brian. It’s two pictures--one of the younger man’s hand on his own wet cock, and the other of him, face flushed and hair disheveled, with his fingers in his mouth and something thin and shiny on his lips.

‘ _Cant wait 2 stream w u tomorrow, pat gill_ ,’ reads the text below the images. Pat decides maybe he doesn’t need to get out of work after all.

**Author's Note:**

> once again if u liked this come hang out with me on tumblr @ hehimlesbianpatgill i have a lot of fun there n talk a lot about topping pat gill with a strap on rklgndklgnfdklg. if u have suggestions or thots on things i could write well...i'm not officially taking prompts cuz thats dangerous for me cuz who knows if i'll ever fucking finish ANYTHING but. i might be inspired u never know


End file.
